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by jfcwasntavailable
Summary: Harry thought her family, any parental figure she had ever, and her soulmate were gone forever. A coincidence and fate give her a second chance. A mixture between the average soulmate and alternate dimension fic. Always a girl Harry. Drarry. Bi Harry. Slytherin Harry. Alternate Dimensions. Soulmates.
1. Chapter 1

Minerva McGonagall turned the corner quickly, and the normally proper witch hiked up her robes so that she could run faster. She came to a gargoyle in the wall and spit out "Acid Pops," barely waiting for the thing to open before rushing through. She sprinted up the twirling staircase, shouting "Albus! Come quickly. There's been a breach in the wards."

Albus Dumbledore looked up as the normally calm deputy headmistress burst into his office. He and Severus had been having their weekly meetings to discuss the on goings of Voldemort and his followers when they had been interrupted. He stood immediately, quickly giving off commands, "Severus, secure the students. Minerva, show me where." Albus and Minerva hurried out of his office toward the great hall, where Minerva told him the intruders were located.

Luckily, it was late on a Saturday night, All Hallows Eve, no less, and most students were safe celebrating in their dorms, or had chosen to skip dinner in the great hall. Albus just prayed that no students had been present, knowing that they would be foolish enough to try to challenge the intruders.

His heart plummeted when he reached the great hall to find Brian Potter with his wand out and pointed at six still bodies. Standing behind him were Oliver Wood and Cedric Diggory, both boys with their wands also out, but smart enough to keep back. Thankfully, the boy was unharmed, Albus didn't want to think about the tongue lashing Lily would give him, regardless of how willing her boy had been to throw himself into danger.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter, I'll take it from here." Albus noted that at least James's eldest son had the presence of mind to look slightly embarrassed.

"Sorry Professor, it's just, the ninth years have got Moody this year and, well, stupefy was my first instinct."

Albus smiled at the boy, "Of course, Mr. Potter, perfectly understandable. Though, if you could refrain from mentioning this to your mother." Albus said with mirth, his eyes twinkling, and quickly levitated the inert bodies from the room.

For now, Albus would avoid getting Aurors involved, because he knew that would mean following strict ministry protocol. He also knew the Voldemort had plenty of spies in the ministry, and he wanted to figure out what exactly what was going on before any deatheaters could.

Albus doubted that the intruders were deatheaters, for one they were simply too young, and for another, if Voldemort had finally discovered how to break Albus's wards, he doubted he would have sent six teenagers. However he would still need to be cautious, as he had been known to make mistakes every once in a while.

Once Albus had reached the infirmary, he levitated all six bodies into hospital beads and strengthened the wards. No one would be able to leave, or cast spells, without his permission. Next, he confiscated all of their wands, just to be safe.

"Poppy? If you would, could you run diagnostics and attempt to identify these students? I have to warn you though, they managed to breach Hogwarts wards and could be dangerous."

"Of course headmaster." The plumb mediwitch began to bustle around the hospital room, gathering everything she would need to preform her diagnostics. After five minutes, she had gathered the necessary potions.

Pomphrey moved towards the first bed, which contained a small girl with a large amount of curly brown hair. She hadn't even begun her spells when she let out a startled gasp, not quite sure if she could believe what she was seeing.

"Poppy what is it?" Albus moved quickly to the mediwitch's side.

"This is Hermione Granger."

Albus turned to look at the girl, "Are you entirely sure?"

"Yes, I recognize the birthmark on her shoulder, and I've never seen anyone else with hair exactly like that." She broke off and turned to look at the headmaster. "Albus, how is this even possible, I examined the body myself."

"I don't know Poppy, perhaps we will uncover more when she wakes." Albus turned to leave the infirmary.

"Notify me in an hour if the she still appears to be Hermione Granger. Don't let your guard down, these are dangerous times."

"Of course headmaster."

"Har, Duck!"

Hermione Granger had yelled, two hours previously. She had been blocking a cruciatus curse sent her way by Antonin Dolohov when she caught a glimpse of green from over her shoulder.

Rose Harriet Potter, Harry for short, and Har during battle, dropped and rolled under the curse, before responding with a stunner and then giving Hermione a grateful look. She'd have been dead several times over just that night if not for her best friend.

Getting to her feet, Harry observed their work while Ron helped Hermione finish off Dolohov. The battle had been hard, but there hadn't been any casualties, and for that Harry felt blessed. After the battle of Hogwarts, Voldemort's deatheaters hadn't dispersed like they had hoped, and the war had trudged on for another several months. But now the attacks were slowing down, and the Order of the Phoenix almost always won under the guidance of the girl-who-lived-twice. This had been her first fight in almost a month, and Harry sincerely hoped her work was almost done.

For a moment, the walls around her transformed into those of Hogwarts, and she was brought back to that battle almost six months ago. Harry was still in mourning for all she had lost for the sake of the wizarding world that night, inside despite taking solace in the knowledge that it was worth it in the end.

She would gladly suffer a thousand lives if it meant a world rid of war.

"Nice one Har! That has to be a new record or something" Ron Weasley patted her on her back and marveled at their success. Harry new that Ron enjoyed the fighting, not because he was blood thirsty, but because it was something he excelled at. Harry admitted that she too enjoyed the rush of adrenaline after a victory, and liked having a purpose to her life. Not that that made the bloodshed worth it.

Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood and Ginerva Weasley joined them, completing the group in charge of the order. The six teens had always been friends, but the bonds of war had rendered them inseparable, and an extremely effective team.

"Is anyone injured at all? No? Well then we should start writing up the reports for Minister Kingsley. The sooner we start the sooner we can sleep." Ron's shoulders slumped, "Come on Har, can't we skive off reports just this once? We're bloody war heroes for Merlin's sake."

Ginny came up behind him and rolled her eyes at her elder brother. "Come on Ronnikins, you know what fearless leader wants, she gets." The redhead teased. She loved poking fun at all of the glorification Harry got in the press, because she knew it was the best way to get under her skin.

"Shut it Weas-" Harry didn't get to finish her sentence, because her scar started throbbing and she twisted her eyes shut. But more than the pain, it was fear that gripped her heart. Her scar hadn't felt like this since the height of His reign.

"Harry?" Hermione approached her with a look of worry marring her face. "What's wro-"

But Hermione didn't get to finish her sentence either, because suddenly the world had gone black.


	2. Chapter 2

Minerva McGonagall was not a witch used to feeling nervous, but the task before her was something she had never faced before. In fact, she felt so unqualified to administer the news she had to bear, that she had invited along Lily Potter, a middle-aged mother who always seemed to have the right words. Lily Potter, who was now staring at her expectantly, waiting for her to ring the doorbell.

Gathering all the courage that she supposedly possessed as head of Gryffindor, Minerva rang the doorbell, and waited patiently.

When Emily Granger answered the door, she was expecting the pizza delivery man, not two women who she knew from another life.

"Hello there, Professor Potter, and was it, er, Professor McGonall?" Emily did her best to seem polite, but she was rather obviously thrown off by their presence. They did not drudge up pleasant memories for her.

"It's McGonagall."

"Ah, of course. Well, um, come in, why don't you?"

She seemed unsure, and Lily couldn't blame her, she knew exactly what kind of pain and memories they were evoking by showing up here, unannounced.

Once all of the women were settled in the kitchen, and tea had been politely offered and politely declined, Minerva began to speak.

"Now, I'm just going to get right to the point. There has been an appearance at Hogwarts, of a girl who is the spitting image of your daughter, and at the same age she would be. We've run every test we could possibly think of, and everything points in one direction, that being that she is your daughter."

As the deputy headmistress had been talking, Emily's face had grown paler, and a look of abject horror had crossed her face, and which was now turning to anger.

"How dare you come to my house, and spout these lies! Do you think it's funny to toy with a mother's grief?" She hissed furiously.

"Emily, you know me, and you know that I wouldn't be here unless I was absolutely sure that it was your daughter." Everyone, even the mother of a muggleborn witch who hadn't made it through her first semester at Hogwarts, knew the story of how Lily Potter had lost her middle child. Emily supposed that if there was anyone who knew what she was going through it would be her.

She sat back in her chair, and her eyes got a far away look. Just as Lily feared that Emily would be too hurt to consider coming to Hogwarts, the middle aged women asked, "Can- Can I see her?"

When Hermione woke up, it was with hunger and extreme confusion. She'd been ready to start on her reports, and then she'd felt a sensation not unlike apparition, and now she was here, in the Hogwarts infirmary. She couldn't remember for the life of her how she'd gotten there, and she didn't like it one bit.

She sat up, and looked to each of her sides, glad to see that the rest of her friends were here with her.

"Oh good, Ms. Granger, you're up."

Hermione looked at Madam Pomphrey with confusion, she hadn't been 'Ms. Granger' since before the battle of Hogwarts.

"About that Poppy, could you tell me exactly how we got here?"

Madame Pomphrey looked just as startled at her use of first names as Hermione had been with last, she noted with confusion.

"Actually, we were quite hoping you could tell us that."

Standing in the door of the infirmary, was a wizard who looked quite like Albus Dumbledore, except that Hermione had been a Dumbledore's funeral, and so she knew that it couldn't been him and she couldn't think of any benign reason for someone to impersonate him.

She reached for her wand, only to find it missing. "Who are you?" she demanded, realizing quickly that something was very, very wrong.

"I'm the headmaster of this school, Albus Dumbledore, I'm sure you remember me from your first year."

"Don't be ridiculous, everyone knows that Albus Dumbledore is dead, are you a deatheater?" Hermione demanded.

"I've been called many things my dear girl, but a deatheater is not one of them" The Albus impersonator said.

Hermione did not lower her wand.

"What's the lunch served today?" It was a secret code the order had come up with, during the height of Voldemort's reign.

"The second of July."

Hermione's eyes widened and her expression softened. Still she did not lower her wand.

"You still do not trust me Ms. Granger?"

"I attended your funeral."

"How very strange, as I did not."

To her horror, a soft snort escaped her. She had missed her Professor's strange sense of humor.

"Well, constant vigilance and all that." She defended lamely.

There was a lull in the conversation, in which all of the people in the room considered each other with cautious curiosity.

"Ms. Granger, I would ask though, how you are privy to such delicate information. And how you seem to be familiar with the teachings of one of my order members."

"I'm part of the order of course."

Still, they regarded each other cautiously, each wanting the other to be who they appeared to be, but neither quite ready to accept it yet.

"You'll have to forgive me for being so blunt Ms. Granger, but I think we have some common ground, in that I attended your funeral as well."

Now she lowered her wand, not being able to see any reason for a deatheater to pretend she was dead.

And so the two brightest wizards in all of Britain sat deliberating how this could be possible.

It was another two hours before the next of their party woke.

Luna sat up, quite dazed, and announced to the room, "I've always wanted to visit a different dimension."

"What do you mean by that Luna?" Hermione asked. The brunette had stopped questioning how Luna knew things a long time ago, and even accepted that Luna could be a clairvoyant. Although she still maintained that Trelawney was a fake, prophecy or not.

"Well, I think it's obvious isn't it? Everyone's auras are quite different here."

Hermione had considered that theory as well, and more and more it was seeming like the only possible explanation. Unless she was experiencing an incredibly realistic dream, which she doubted, considering she didn't think she was creative enough to imagine an entirely different dimension.

The only questions left now were how and why?

Relatively speaking, Ron and Neville woke up rather soon after that. Ron went immediately to check on his sister, and after ascertaining that she was fine, went to hug Hermione, who, although she knew logically that if she was fine he should be too, had been worried for her fiancé and soulmate.

Madame Pomphrey eyed their black marks with interest. Soulmate tattoos were rare now, and black ones were even rarer. She was glad though, that these children who had met such unhappy ends in her world had found their happiness elsewhere.

Neville checked on Luna, who smiled and hugged her protector, staring up at him with an affectionate smile. None of their group could exactly define their relationship, just that they loved each other, and that was all that needed defining really.

"When do you reckon Gin and Har will wake up?" Ron asked the ravenclaw.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom, and Ms. Lovegood, I'm glad you're awake, preferably we would wait until your friends were awake as well, but I'm afraid that we must get this settled before news spreads too quickly." Dumbledore said, striding into the room and cutting off any response Hermione might have given.

Ron and Neville stared at their late headmaster, not a little flummoxed, while Luna didn't seem to think anything was strange. However, their nerves were calmed when they saw that Hermione didn't seem to think anything was amiss either.

"We'll talk with you, but we won't make any decisions until Harry is awake."

"Ah yes, that is something else I wanted to discuss. I'll have to ask your forgiveness, but I hope you understand the necessity of using occlumency to make sure you did not pose a threat?"

Hermione did not look happy about it, nor did Ron or Neville for that matter, but she had to admit she would have done the same in his situation.

Taking her silence as acquiescing, Dumbledore continued on, "I've identified Ms. Weasley of course, however your other friend has strong mental shields up. We've not been able to identify her, and I'm afraid that I really cannot allow her to stay here much longer without knowing if she is a threat."

The brunette seemed to miss the last part of the professor's explanation, instead focusing on the not being able to identify The Girl Who Lived part.

"You mean Harry's not alive here?" she asked it softly, it was one of those statements that were so world altering, that one could not say them too harshly for fear of breaking the world altogether.

"My dear girl, none of you are."

And so their world broke.

For Hermione, it was easier. She knew the theory behind parallel universes. She had long ago accepted that they might exist. She knew that her other self's death would not affect her, and was probably what made her existence here possible in the first place.

That is to say, that it was easier, but not easy in the slightest.

What one knew, and what one believed are two very different things, and though the young witch had spent the majority of her life reconciling the two, current circumstances proved enough to sway even lifelong habits.

Accepting her own death was one thing, in the way that teenagers believed they could never die, simply because teenagers didn't die.

Accepting her friends was something entirely different, because as a soldier she knew how easily and quickly and unexpectedly death came to those she loved.

But really it wasn't as if they were really the dead. Her soulmate, the Ronald Weasley she knew, was alive and well with his arm around her shoulder. But that didn't stop her from thinking about how a Ronald had died, and some version of Molly and Arthur and the twins had grieved for him.

Perhaps it wasn't easier, because brilliant witches tend to understand things too well, and bring that burden upon themselves.

For Ron, it was hard to imagine a world without his friends and in which none of anything he had ever done had really happened. He wondered if his existing in this universe made his nonexistence for six years real, and if there was another Ron somewhere, who had lived a totally different life than him. He hoped that there was, and hoped that a Ron had grown up without Voldemort and had kept all his brothers.

His brothers. Were his brothers alive here? Surely whatever higher being that controlled them all could not be cruel enough as to have two different universes in which George existed without Fred.

It was hard for Ron because hearts that are too big tend to feel too much.

Neville, perhaps, was more concerned for his friends than he was for himself. He never expected much, and so he didn't get hurt easily. He knew where Ron's mind was, and he knew how Hermione would overthink it all, and he worried for them, in the way that friends do.

He took solace in knowing Luna would be the best able to adapt.

Neville worried for others, and didn't think of himself because that's how people who are not used to being thought act.

They didn't tell the headmaster about Harry. For one, he would not believe them. For another, they knew Harry would want to introduce herself, before taking charge.


	3. Chapter 3

"Headmaster, you are absolutely sure this girl is Hermione Granger? I will not introduce her to Emily unless you are entirely sure."

"You are welcome to test them yourselves Lily, but unless a seventeen year old girl has become a better occlumens than myself, I can guarantee that she is telling the truth."

Lily nodded sheepishly, not having meant to imply that the ancient wizard was being tricked by a young girl, but simply concerned for the welfare of another mother, whose loss was so close to her heart.

"Of course, I'll just go get the girl. Moody is having me escort her and stay in her presence the entire time."

Lily, teaching arithmancy, a third year class, had never had Hermione Granger in her classes. But her husband, who taught defense, had. Never keeping anything from James, Lily had explained the situation with the six strange children. He filled her in on Hermione Granger.

If Lily had mourned her death six years ago, it felt ten times more potent now. Once the girl became a real figure in her head, with personality and friends, rather than just a name, her death felt so much more real. This was a girl who would have had such a full life ahead of her, achieving and making her parents proud. She would never get that future, all because of the ambitions of a mad man.

It made her heart ache, and made old wounds tender.

This grief was similar in quality, if not in quantity, to that she felt about her daughter. Her daughter Rose, who had been such a beautiful happy child, and wouldn't have a future either, now.

But her grief for her daughter was decidedly more selfish, as the most poignant griefs tend to be. Yes Lily mourned all the things her daughter would never get to do. She mourned her daughters first train ride, and her first potions class, and first kiss, and all the other firsts that had become nevers with the stroke of a wand.

But she also mourned her own firsts. She mourned never hearing her daughter say "mama," and never getting to teach exactly what colors look best with their shade of eyes. She mourned all the joy that her daughter would have brought her, and wondered if that made her a bad person.

But James and Sirius and Remus and Alice all mourned for their own joy too, and they were the best people she knew. Eventually, after years of turmoil, she decided it was Peter and Voldemort who were the bad people, not her.

She had hoped that her wounds would fade. They never did, it was just that she got used to living with them.

That was why she was so protective of Emily. If this wasn't her daughter, it would be like sticking a knife in the wound and ripping out all the carefully placed stitching keeping her together, and Emily would have to learn to live with the hurt all over again.

That is why she and Molly and Alice were so protective of Emily. The Mothers-who-had-Lost, Rita Skeeter had called them.

Each step brought Lily closer to the hospital wing, and though she tried to remain suspicious, cautious hope fluttered. She hoped this girl was who she said she was, unlikely as it may seem.

To think that she was going to meet her mother was both oddly relieving and terrifying.

Relieving because Ginny had woken and was pretending that nothing bothered her in typical Ginny fashion and Hermione knew Harry would be able to talk to her. And because Harry was still yet to wake, that meant she had to be the one to discuss with Dumbledore and plan and make everyone else's problems hers and she just wanted her mother.

Strange because she has a mother, one who baked her scones and took her shopping and taught her to never let other people make her act less intelligent than she was. Because she had a mother, one who had been killed by death eaters two weeks after returning from Australia.

In a way, they had both lost each other, and though she could never be the other Hermione, and this Emma could never be her other mother, maybe they could begin to mend each other's wounds.

When Lily was chosen to be the mediator, it was because she was the most neutral person they could think of. She had no connection to Hermione Granger, but could offer support and understand the situation better than any of the other staff members.

That is why she had expected her introduction to the children to be brief and forgettable. Naturally, she was shocked when wide eyes and choking sounds met her appearance at the doorway. Regardless, she moved on.

The only child in the room that she recognized was Neville Longbottom. He had been fourteen when he perished in the Triwizard Tournament, but he had never taken arithmancy. Lily didn't know him personal, but every wizard in magical Britain would recognize the boy who lived.

The Weasleys, who she assumed were the two red heads with freckles, were vaguely familiar, but only because they looked like their brother Percy, who had been a favorite of hers.

She had no recollection of the blonde haired girl sitting next to Neville, nor of the brunette still asleep on the bed.

"Ms. Granger, I'm Professor Potter, would you please come this way?"

The ravenclaw stared at her, not moving.

Now Lily was becoming worried, because Ms. Granger had been deemed the test subject for reintroducing all of these children to their parents, and she hoped everything would be alright, because God did Molly and Alice ever deserve to have their children back.

"Ms. Granger? Your mother is waiting."

"Right, of course. I'm sorry it's just so weird seeing people I know from another world here."

The two witches travelled through the ancient hallways, which were eerily silent due to the lack of students. They had all been told to stay in their dorms until this mess had been sorted out. Hermione could hear the sound of every footstep bringing her closer and closer to her mother.

"Really, do you know me well in your world?"

"Not really, but I am best friends with your daughter."

Her daughter. Why had it never occurred to her that if another world existed in which Molly and Alice's children had never died, that the same could be true for her daughter.

Hermione must have noticed the stricken look.

"Proffesor Dumbledore explained to me that she died in this world. But that never happened in mine. She's the best friend I could ever ask for, and I think you would be proud."

Tears burned the back of Lily's eyes. She knew she would have been proud of her daughter, no matter what. But it was nice to hear about her.

"Do you think, maybe, after all of this is over, you could tell me about her?"

Hermione nodded.

They were silent for the rest of their walk.

Emily Granger sat nervously at a polished wooden table in the Headmaster's office. She had been slightly taken aback by all of the nick-nacks and magical objects whizzing around the office, but she supposed nothing could be stranger than her daughter coming back to life. No, not her daughter, another Hermione, from another world.

House elves had brought tea and biscuits and laid them out. Emily had already been there for five minutes, and even though she had promised herself she would not get her hopes up, she was terrified that some complication had occurred to make Lily late.

She was considering getting up and looking for her when the redheaded women entered the room. Behind her entered a young lady, about sixteen or seventeen

She was average height, with dark curls and beautiful brown eyes. Her skin was a glowing brown and her stance was confident, belying the nerves she felt. She looked like her mother, but had her father's tendency for freckles.

Mother and daughter stared at each other, drinking the other in.

"Hermione?"

"Mum."

Lily Potter smiled to herself, quite content by the outcome of the day.

Emily knew that this girl was different from her daughter, having had six more years to change and grow than her daughter. Hermione also knew that this woman would be different, having lived six years with the grief of her daughter's death. But that didn't stop them from hitting it off and finding solace in each other.

Emma couldn't be prouder when she heard about her daughter coming in top of the class, and becoming a prefect. Hermione saved her other not so pleasant accomplishments for another day, hoping that for today she could pretend to be just a normal girl.

Hermione had asked tentatively about how she had died in this world, causing Emily to begin tearing up, and all Hermione could understand was "troll." But that was enough.

She reminded herself to thank Harry when the other girl woke up.

They spent hours talking and catching up, before Lily had left them be, confident they would not need her help. She smiled thinking about it as she flipped through essays she had yet to grade.

Her door slammed open, and Professor Flitwick stuck his head into his favorite student's office. "Lily, you're needed in the hospital wing. Urgently." The small man panted.

When Harry had woken, it was to an empty room.

She did not know it, but her friends were safe. Hermione was with her mother, Neville and Luna had gone for a walk, Ginny was nicking food from the kitchens, and Ron was in the bathroom.

However, years of living on the edge caused her to assume the worst, and when strange adults had entered the room, she struck first, asked questions later.

She didn't know that they were simply aurors, arriving to take official statements on the happenings of that weekend.

Harry had won that fight easily, wordlessly casting expelliarmus, and then using their own wands to stun them. Really she thought, if deatheaters were going to kidnap her they might as well be competent. Contrary to popular belief, she did not beat Voldy with luck.

Her next move was to take stock of the situation. It looked like the hospital wing at Hogwarts, but that couldn't be possible, both because the wards she had helped cast on Hogwarts would not allow in anyone with a dark mark, and also because they were still in the process of rebuilding the hospital wing.

Before she could decide on a course of action however, three more adults had entered the room, one of whom she knew to be dead. Naturally, she began to duel them.

At first, the Minerva, Sirius, and Pomona didn't know how to respond, as Dumbledore had assured them that these kids were safe. But after a reducto curse missed Black by less than an inch, they began to duel in earnest.

Harry centered on the one at the front of the group. It was one thing to kidnap her, it was another to mock her by transforming into her dead godfather.

"Please, we don't want to hurt you!" her pseudo-godfather yelled.

"I suppose you kidnapped me for shits and giggles then?"

"We didn't kidnap you! We don't even know who you are!"

Right, she still had on the glamour she wore twenty-four seven, as defense against this sort of situation. It didn't matter though, whether they knew her true identity or not, she wasn't going to wait around

She hit the deatheater with a slicing curse, tearing a painful but superficial gash above his knee.

"Sirius!" came the cry from the doorway.

Harry turned ready to take out whoever the newcomer was, but stopped short when she saw the face of her long dead mother.

"Stupefy!"

When Harry woke up for the second time, she was bound and blindfolded. That would make escaping harder, but not impossible. She tried summoning the nearest wand, but none came to her. Next, she tried to use a simple cutting charm on the ropes binding her, but found it ineffective.

"You've got a potion in your system suppressing your magic. If you agree to behave, we may ween you off it. If not, it's an experimental potion, and I'm just dying to figure out the side effects of long term usage."

Harry knew that drawing voice, and snarky humor. She also knew it couldn't be him.

"Go to hell."

"Fine." She heard a door open and snick closed.

And then there was silence.

The professors of Hogwarts stood gathered outside of the room, waiting for Severus's returns. He had assured them of his potion's effectiveness, but they still feared for their colleague.

The headmaster was away on ministry business, and so they did not know how to handle this girl from another world.

When Snape exited the room, they stared at him expectantly.

"She has been trained by an accomplished occlumen. I would not be able to get past her shields without damaging her mind, and I would first like to know whether she is dangerous or not."

Moody, having arrived after hearing that two of his aurors had been taken down by a seventeen year old girl, pipped in, "Of course she's dangerous. No one who isn't attacks like that, my men said she summoned his wand wandless and non-verbally. There's no reason for a kid like her to know that magic unless she has something to hide."

Snape curled his lip in disdain for the other man's, in his opinion, over aggressive display.

"She has the Black chin, and hair."

Those were in fact, the only features that Harry's glamour did not change.

"You think she's a Black?" Sirius asked.

"It's impossible to tell. It could just be inherited from a distant relative. But she definitely has relation to an old pure-blood family."

"Which makes her a prime suspect for a deatheater" Moody said.

"She doesn't have the mark."

"And neither does the Malfoy boy, but we all know who he serves."

"Regardless, she refuses to speak to me. I think we'll have to use veritaserum."

"Do you have any Severus?" asked Minerva.

"I always keep some handy."

Lily looked skeptical, "Are we sure? Using veritaserum on a child…" She had proposed simply asking Hermione for help with her friend, but the other professors had pointed out that it was Hermione who had told Dumbledore the other girl was safe in the first place.

"You saw how she fought Lily, she's dangerous. We can't afford to let our emotions get the best of us" Moody replied.

The door opened again, and who Harry assumed to be the fake Snape reentered the room, followed by several other people.

"Petrificus" the curse hit her, and Harry panicked. In her experience, deatheaters used this when they were about to move her, which was never a good thing.

But instead the man moved closer and pried open her mouth, and tilted a bottle down her throat. It was either swallow the liquid or choke on it. Harry grimaced at the unmistakable taste of veritaserum.

"I didn't know deatheaters used veritaserum. I thought the preferred method was cruciatus."

Severus raised an eyebrow, but she couldn't see it. He now knew that the girl had a background that would make her familiar with how veritaserum tastes. He also knew that she either believed they were deatheaters and knew how deatheaters functioned, or was a very good actor.

"What is your name?"

Thinking quickly, Harry responded with "Harriet Dursley." Technically she had gone by that at one point in her life. Lily studied the girl, before deciding the name must be a coincidence. No way was this girl related to Vernon.

"Do you have any connection to Voldemort."

"…yes" Moody drew his wand, presumably deciding this was proof enough, but Snape held him off. Snape decided to narrow down his questioning.

"Are you loyal to him?"

"No."

"Are you loyal to any that are loyal to him."

That question was met with silence. "Well, answer it girl."

"I know the answer should be no, but the serum won't let me say it." She sounded confused.

"You expect me to believe that? You must explain yourself further."

"I was once in love with a deatheater's son, but he died."

Snape was silent processing the information. Moody counted it as another piece of damning evidence, but the rest of the professors felt silent pity. She was so young to have loved and lost, they thought.

"Who are you? Why do you have me here?" So far, Harry had played along, knowing that fighting veritaserum was useless, and doing so would only make him angry. But that didn't mean she was going to be submissive.

"I am the one asking the questions. Are you a light or a dark witch?"

Harry resisted this time, showing that she could and would make this process as long and drawn out as was possible if he didn't answer her questions.

"Fine girl. I am Professor Snape of Hogwarts. We currently believe you have been transported here from another dimension, and we are questioning you to make sure that you do not pose a threat to the students of this school."

"Another dimension? Really inventive, that one. If you want to kill me just get on with it."

Snape narrowed his eyes, seeing through the false bravado.

"Now you will answer my question, are you a dark or a light witch?"

"I use dark spells if that's what you mean." Once again Moody began as if to curse that girl, but Snape held him back again, not yet satisfied he had the entire story.

"Which dark spells have you used?"

"Imperious, the killing curse, and sectumsempra." Snape, and everyone else in the room, were stunned. That such a young girl had used curses that even some of the most experienced deatheaters could not use. It was terrifying.

"Where did you learn that last curse." Snape asked, his voice deadly quiet.

Harry paused, knowing that if these were deatheaters, a connection to Severus Snape would lead them one step closer to her true identity.

"From the half-blood prince."

"How do you know of that name!" now his words came harsher.

"How do you?" Harry replied.

Severus turned to address the rest of the room. "I have matters I need to discuss with Ms. Dursley. Alone."

Moody didn't like that, "What have ya to be asking the girl that you can't say in front of the rest of us?"

"Did Dumbledor not leave me in charge in his absence?" The question was quiet, which made it all the more terrifying.

"Just don't get yerself hexed," Moody grumbled as he, and the other members of the Order of the Phoenix, filed out of the room.

Snape fixed his attention back on the girl. She was confusing to him. None of them could place her identity, despite all the other children being fairly easy to. Additionally, all of her companions were undoubtable light wizards. How did she fit into the group?

They seemed to regard her as their leader though, and he could understand that. Perhaps, as the leader she had taken certain hardships and responsibilities upon herself so that the others didn't have to. It wasn't uncommon for senior aurors to postpone a junior member's first killing for as long as possible.

"How do you know about the half-blood prince?" She demanded of him.

"I am him."

"Really? Fine, what was the spell sectumsempre labled as."

"For enemies."

Snape exited the room, having learned more, but not being any clearer for it. Her identity remained a mystery. If it wasn't for her pureblood features, he would think she was a muggleborn. She obviously had some relation to the Black family, but he couldn't think of any other wizarding families that had lost children around her age, certaintly not any with the last name Dursley. He had dismissed a glamour, no wizard would be able to hold one for as long as she had been under observation.

Furthermore, the stubborn girl refused to believe that she was in another realm, and not being held hostage. She refused to even believe his identity, despite the fact that he knew information that no other could possibly know.

It was obvious that she had had some sort of connection to him in her world. Perhaps she had been a favored student, not that he had many.

"Well, what did you find out?" Flitwick asked when he turned to face the rest of the order.

"Not much, she seems to think I am a deatheater holding her hostage. The only thing I can say for sure is that she is concerned for her friends. I think the next best course of action would be to allow Ms. Granger to try to talk some sense into her."

"It that safe, for Ms. Granger I mean?" Lily asked. If the girl could take down three members from the order, Hermione wouldn't stand a chance.

"I don't believe she would hurt her own friends."

"I'll go get her then."

When the door next opened, a much lighter gate made its way into the room. The person approached Harry, and with a quick tug, removed her blindfold.

Her eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the light, but when they did a welcome sight greeted them.

"Hermione! I was so worried. We have to get out of here quick, before pseudo-Snape comes back again, they tried to tell were in another dimension, can y-"

"We are." Hermione cut her off.

"Ok, why don't you untie me and I'll check you for a befuddlement jinx."

The Ravenclaw sighed, this wasn't going to be easy.

"Harry, all of the members of the order are here. They know who we are. I've been around them for more than an hour, so I know it's not polyjuice. I can't find anything that doesn't point to us not being in another world."

"They could be using a glamour, like me-"

"You know the average wizard can't hold a glamour for as long as you can. It'd exhaust them."

She paused, before continuing, softly, "Harry, I heard some of them talking, about- about a Malfoy. I think. Um I think, maybe we should check your shoulder, to um, to see what colour it is."

Harry turned her head away violently, "he's dead, Ok Hermione? It'll be red."

"I just, wouldn't that convince you? Can't we just check?" Hermione knew how hard this was for her friend, but the sooner Harry accepted what was going on the sooner they could make a plan.

"Fine."

Hermione moved behind her, and slowly moved aside her robe. Swirling around her right shoulder laid a wyvern. It was a majestic beast, with its head was on collar bone, as if the dragon were resting on her shoulder, and its wings wrapped around her side and touched her spine, its tail coming just to the small of her back.

It was white.

"Harry, look." Hermione said, breathlessly, both from the shock, and from the joy she felt for the slytherin.

Harry turned her head, catching the white head of the wyvern in the corner of her eye. She stared at it until her eyes began to hurt. It had been six years since her soul mark had been white, one year since it turned black to red. She stared, and she felt the tears that hadn't fell a year ago begin to fall, now, as she stared at the miracle on her shoulder.

"I believe you." She said.

Hermione hugged her friend until the tears stopped falling.

Harry and Hermione exited the room together, and immediately several wands were drawn in her direction.

"Relax," she said, holding her hands up I front of her, "I'm not gonna attack, I trust you guys now."

"And what makes you think we trust you?"

"The soup of the day is chicken noodle at the Leaky Cauldron." The wands dropped. So it seemed all the children were familiar with the orders secret codes. Great.

"Huh. Weird that they'd be the same across dimensions, isn't it?"

"Why did you attack us earlier?" Asked Brown, the Auror whose wand she stole.

"I thought you were deatheaters. Was the man whose leg I got really Sirius Black?" questioned Harry.

This time it was Minerva who responded, "He most certainly was. He's in the hospital wing now, if you care to apologize."

Harry nodded, not sure she was quite ready to have a casual conversation with her long dead godfather. She opened her mouth, intending to ask McGonagall about what time lunch would be, when a man in a dark billowy robe turned the corner.

Before, she assumed it had been a deatheater, but now that she knew the truth, she was struck with the sight of her, also long dead, head of house.

Before she rightly knew what she was doing, she launched herself at her only consistent parental figure, and wrapped him in a hug. As soon as she released what she was doing, she backed off and let go of the potions master who had stiffened at her touch.

"Er, sorry, it's just, you're kind of dead in my world. But I get that you don't know me here, and so that was weird."

He just stared at her.

"Would you care to explain why you felt there could be any possible reason I'd be welcoming of a hug, in this world or another, Ms. Dursley?"

Right, they still thought she was Harriet Dursley.

"You were kind of a father figure to me," she explained, while everyone within hearing range looked at her incredulously. Severus Snape? A father figure?

"My own parents died when I was very young. I suspect I died with them in this world. Anyways, you were my mother's good friend when you were in Hogwarts, and so when I came you kept an eye out for me," Harry continued, looking nervously. She hadn't considered how awful it would be to have all her loved ones back from the dead, only for them to hate her.

"I don't know anyone by the last name Dursley."

Harry looked at her head of house sheepishly, "you wouldn't, that's my aunt's last name, which I went by before coming to Hogwarts, my real name is Rose Harriet Potter."

When Harry had told them her name, the members of the order stood silent, giving her an opportunity to look around and observe the people present.

None of them were pleased to hear that Lily and James Potter were dead in another world, or that their daughter had turned into a quasi-dark witch who fell in love with deatheater's sons.

Harry took stock of the group surrounding her. Of course Professors McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick were all present. There were the two Aurors she didn't know, and an old woman who looked like Arabella Figg, but it had been years since Harry had last seen her, so she couldn't be sure.

She wondered, if all these people were alive, did that mean that Remus, Tonks and Fred might also be? Or even Colin Creevy and Dobby? Or Cerdric?

She realized, that several seconds had gone by since she had announced her name to the room, yet they all were continuing to stare at her. Several more seconds went by, and she almost opened her mouth to ask what the problem was, when another figure turned the corner, interrupting her once again.

"Is everyone alright? Oh Hermione, I see you convinced your friend. Hello, my name is Professor Potter, pleased to make you acquaintance."

Harry let out a half choked sob.

"Did I say something wrong?" Her mother asked, oblivious to the situation.

Gently Hermione leaned over, "Harry, I think now might be a good time to let your glamour drop."

Slowly the syltherin's features morphed. She lost a couple centimeters, and maybe a stone. Her eyes turned from a hazel to brilliant green. Her cheeks lost their roundness, and her mouth became wider.

Staring back at Lily, was her own face.


	4. Chapter 4

"Rose?" Lily asked, carefully and wide eyed.

"I go by Harry, actually."

"Your father always did like that name better."

The mother and daughter stood, three meters apart, staring at each other, before Lily Potter marched forward, and held her second child.

"My baby, oh my baby."

The day had been a good, yet emotionally exhausting one.

Harry was reunited with her mother and father, for the first time since she could remember she got to hug them. She saw Sirius too and apologized to him, but he forgave her easily considering that Madame Pomphrey fixed it in under an hour, and that it's not every day your goddaughter comes back from the dead.

Remus couldn't arrive until dinnertime, but he too swept his best friends daughter up in a tight hug, before gifting her a bar of Honeydukes finest chocolate. This was a big deal coming from Remus.

Neville too, was reunited with his parents, who had passed naturally in his own world. He felt guilty, like he was betraying his real parent's memories. But his mother alleviated this when she told him that while they could never replace each other's loved ones, there was no harm in loving each other now.

They were so proud of him. Proud that he was in hufflepuff and loved herbology and collecting chocolate frog cards. Proud that he was a war hero.

Out of everyone reunited with their families, Neville was the only one who discussed openly and honestly his role in the war. Hermione, Ginny, Ron and Luna didn't want to worry their parents. Harry didn't want hers to hate her.

He told them about Hogwarts being taken by deatheaters, and keeping Dumbledor's army alive. He told them about how he and Luna grew close that year. He told them about killing Nagini, and about everyone he'd lost in the final battle.

In turn they told him about how, in his fourth year, somebody put his name in the Goblet of Fire, because of a prophecy about him killing Voldemort. Neville almost wanted to tell him that he knew how this story ended, but her supposed that would be Harry's choice, not his. They told him about how in the third task, he had gotten the cup in the middle of the maze, and that they never found his body.

Ron and Ginny hugged their parents, who had been killed when Lucius Malfoy led a raid on the burrow a month after the final battle.

They told their parents that they both played on the Hogwarts quidditch team. Ron told them that Hermione was soulmate, which prompted Ms. Weasley to sweep her up into a big Weasley Hug. Ginny told her parents that she liked girls, but didn't tell them that she had dated Harry for a couple of months after Harry's own soulmate had died, because that had been terribly awkward and she regretted it. They said they didn't mind, and that Mrs. Weasley had always wanted more daughters anyways.

Luna, who had died in a potions accident instead of her mother, talked with her parents about Nargles and Winged Humdigums, but also made sure that her mother knew her death was not her fault.

Harry told her parents that she played quidditch, and like defense against the dark arts, and asked them about what happened that Halloween sixteen years ago. She didn't say anything about being in slytherin, or being a parslemouth, or having a soulmate. They would hate her and she had just gotten them back.

Her parents told her that in this world, Lily and James had left her with a babysitter as the war was not quite so bad, only to come home to find the house in ruins. They told her that her older brother Brian had been at a play date with Oliver Wood at the time, and her little brother Marius had not yet been born. She didn't tell them that they were all dead in her world.

They didn't talk about her admittance to using dark magic, or being linked to Voldemort. They had their daughter back, and wanted to forget everything else.

That is not to say they would not eventually discuss those admissions.

When Dumbledor3 returned from his business in the ministry, he told them that they would all be welcome to resume their seventh or sixth year respectively, once they were settled in. No one told him that Harry, Ron and Hermione had dropped out after their fifth year. Besides, if anyone could get caught up on one and a half years of material in a week, it was those three.

On All Hallows Eve, Draco Malfoy woke with a sharp pain in his side. In his delirious, partially asleep state, the first thing his mind jumped to was poisoning. He supposed having a dark lord living with your parents would make one jumpy.

Being awake, he knew it must just be a cramp since he watched what he ate too carefully.

He walked out to his living area, a modest sized room with a couch, coffee table and half kitchen. It wasn't Malfoy manor, but being a prefect did have its perks. Across the room was another door that lead to the dorm of the girl prefect, Pansy Parkinson.

Pansy was by far his best friend, and if he wasn't such a damn romantic, he would have allowed his father to set up a marriage contract. As it was, Pansy had a white mark, and he'd be damned if he took that type of opportunity away from his best friend.

Walking over to the kitchenette, he cast a quick tempus charm, and discovered that it was exactly 12:03. It wasn't like he could afford to lose sleep, between NEWTS, prefect duties and the war looming over his head, he didn't exactly sleep well on a good night.

But Draco had never been one to stomach pain well, and he knew he either had to get a pain relief potion for his side or he was going to be up all night.

Draco made himself a cup of coffee, knowing that his personal potions stock was currently empty, and that both Snape and Pomphrey were asleep for the night. Neither would take kindly to being woken for a non-emergency.

Draco took his coffee with cream and sugar, thank you. Blaise had made fun of him, saying that if Draco had to pick up a horrible muggle drink from the continent, then he could at least drink it like a man. How could one drink coffee like a man, Draco wondered.

Draco knew he was different from most boys his age. He had one or two dalliances, but did not exert much energy trying to please the other sex. He did not care for the hyper masculinity his classmates gave off like too much cologne. It stunk of insecurity and pandering, two things Malfoys did not do.

It also helped that being wealthy, good looking, and powerful, Draco had never had any reason to feel insecure. And also that romanticism thing: Since his soulmate had died when he was a child, Draco wanted no part in true romance.

It was silly, he knew. If he had never had a mark, he wouldn't know the difference. But it felt wrong to their memory to ever become romantically close to anyone else.

Setting down with his coffee, Draco slipped a book out from its hiding spot under a cushion. It was called "The Hunger Games." He had first picked it up of a newsstand in London, in an attempt to satisfy his curiosity about how muggles lived, before realizing that it had little to do with actual muggle culture. It was a good, if dangerous, read nevertheless, even if Draco could only read it in the dead of night.

He hated how similar his family was to the citizens of the capitol.

Two chapters, and another cup of coffee later, the pain in his side had not abated. Now he was beginning to worry; he had read about an appendicitis, but now he couldn't remember whether that hurt on the left or the right side.

Returning to his room, Draco made his way over to the full length mirror that stood next to his dresser. Pulling up his night shirt, he got a good look at his left side, trying to see if there was any noticeable swelling or rash.

His tattoo was that of a lynx, one with piercing eyes and a proud stance. His mother told him that a Lynx represented cunning and strength. She said that his soulmate would have grown up to be a fine slytherin.

He used to spend hours standing in the mirror, tracing his red tattoo and wishing it would turn white. He had fallen in love with the idea of their being a person out there who would love him unconditionally, and support him no matter how badly he messed up.

He had grown used to the idea of settling though. His parents weren't soulmates, but that didn't mean they weren't happy. He deserved to have that too.

But he still hoped. So when he made out the white color of his tattoo it was a rush of both shock and elation that hit him.

That Monday, both Professors Potter took the day off, ostensibly for "family matters", pulling both Brian and Marius out for the day as well.

Harry had looked confused hearing that her brother, two years her senior, still attended Hogwarts. James explained that after the war broke out Dumbledore had decided to allow students the opportunity to stay on another three years in order to receive specialized training. Brian, wanting to follow in his father's footsteps and become a member of the order, was in the Auror program.

"How's that going for him?"

"He's enjoying it, but I wish he wasn't so desperate to go to war." Lily said, with obvious fondness.

"War?" Harry almost choked. If Neville had been the boy who lived, and he died in forth year, then that left no one to kill Voldemort. It made so much sense now. That was why fate had pulled her across dimensions, so she could restore the balance that Voldemort had tipped.

Despair wrapped its lead-laden fingers around her heart, but Harry had never been one for self-pity. It was a complex set of thoughts that occupied her mind, despite her face remaining neutral. Naturally Harry had been grateful for the war to end and felt that she had done more than could be expected of any one witch to preserve the world.

But she would not stand aside for her own comfort while people died. She would defeat Voldemort again, using the knowledge she had of his plans and horcruxes, and she would protect her family this time, and then she would live her normal life.

"Er, yes, you-know-how is in power currently, is he not in you world?"

Harry shook her head no, and let her parents assume that Voldemort had just stayed dead after being defeated by her own worlds boy-who-lived.

From what she understood of her parents' description, despite Voldemort primarily targeting Britain, all countries part of the International Wizarding Ministries had banded together to pose an organized front. Here, Fudge was never elected, as too many insisted on Dumbledore stepping into the role.

Now the war was not as all-consuming as it was in Harry's world. Life went on, just with extra safety precautions here and there.

That morning, after breakfast, James and Lily picked up their boys and brought them back to Potter manor, where Harry was awaiting for them with Remus and Sirius. Lily took her boys aside and said, "I have some big news for you boys, it may be a bit strange, but its good news I promise."

"Mum?" Brian prompted, as Lily paused, trying to find the words to say this best.

"You know that you used to have a sister right?" This was mostly addressed at Marius, who was born after his sister's death.

"Voldemort killed her. We know mom." Brian seemed a bit pained. He still had memories of Rose, having been almost four when she died. He missed the feeling of having a sister, and it made him furious to think that a mad man had stolen that from him and his family.

"Last Saturday, on All Hallows Eve, the lines between different dimensions were as thin as they ever are, and the conditions were just right for six people to pass between the border, ending up in our world. I know, hear me out." Brian nodded, understanding the theory behind alternate dimensions. Those must have been the intruders he confronted in the Great Hall. Marius, a third year, looked more skeptical.

"One of them was your sister, or at least the Rose Potter from a different world. We met her last night, and she's inside with Sirius now."

Brian looked behind his mother, seeing if he could catch a peak through the doorway. It was farfetched, but it was everything he had ever hoped for.

"This isn't some kind of sadistic joke?" He asked, already getting excited. Marius, who did everything his brother did, was bouncing in anticipation.

"Not even Sirius could be so cruel," Lily said affectionately, "But boys, remember she's gone through a lot of changes in the past days, try not to overwhelm her."

Harry was being absolutely thrashed by Remus at wizard's chess when her brothers entered the room.

She knew vaguely about Brian, but only because her Sirius mentioned him once, and not in much detail. Otherwise, she would have never known she once had a brother.

Brian looked like James, only with Lily's eyes, and lighter brown hair with reddish tones. He was taller than Harry ever hoped to be and looked young, despite being two and a half years Harry's senior. Standing next to and slightly behind him was who she assumed to be Marius. His hair was the same fiery red as his mother's and he also shared her distinctive bright green eyes. His face was much more a mix of the two, with James's strong jaw and forehead, but Lily's wide mouth and button nose. He smiled excitedly at her, and she smiled back.

Harry stood and held out her hand, feeling awkward and said, "My friends call me Harry. It looks like I'm your sister." She was surprised to find herself enveloped in a tight hug from both sides.

Brian whispered, "This is a Potter hug, it lasts a mandatory minute." He and his brother began to count down the seconds in a rather awful Bulgarian accent. They were goofy and silly and trusting and everything Harry never got the chance to be. She loved it.

The rest of the day progressed in much the same fashion. Brian put something in Sirius's potion to turn his hair pink with orange polka-dots, and Lily and Remus admonished him. James and Marius played a game to see who could successfully hide the most whoopee cushions, which Marius won.

Harry did not partake in the pranking, but did chime in with her own particular dry and cutting wit, which the Potters, including their honorary members, found positively delightful.

Harry wondered if she would have been like that too, all Gryffindor confidence and silly humor, if she had been raised a Potter. Probably.

"Rose?" James asked. She should really start thinking of him as 'dad', however foreign the word was to her.

"Hmm?" she responded. "We've been trying to get you attention for the past minute."

"Oh, right sorry. Just a bit caught up in everything."

"That's perfectly understandable," James smiled at her, "We just wanted to know if you'd like to join us for a quick game of Quidditch?"

"That sounds great."

As it turns out, Potter Manor has a quidditch pitch in the back, complete with goal posts and spectator stands. The five of them, James, Sirius, Brian, Marius and Harry, made their way over to the broom cupboard.

"Dad, can I pretty pretty please ride a firebolt today? I promise I'll be careful." Marius was practically tugging on his father's coattails.

"It takes a lot of experience to handle one of those Marius, you know if you lose control your mother would never let you ride again." Marius was upset, but couldn't argue with his father's logic. Besides, he thought, it's not like a Nimbus two-thousand is all that slow either.

"Do you play quidditch often?" Brian asked her.

"Yeah, I made seeker for my house first year. Haven't looked back since." She said with a smile.

"Seeker first year! I bet you could give dad a run for his money!" Piped in Marius.

"We'll see." Harry said modestly, making her way into the shed, before picking out a Nimbus two-thousand for herself.

"Adults against kids?" suggested Brian. "Mum can referee."

"Sounds good."

Considering that there were only five of them, they played without snitch or bludgers, and whichever team got to one hundred first won.

The game was fun, if riddled with flagrant cheating. Sirius even pulled Marius's robes over his head while James took the quaffle from him. Harry played competently, but not seriously. For now, she didn't want to impress anybody. She just wanted to be a normal girl with her family. She still relished the feeling of being on a broom again. She hadn't had time for that during the war.

Except she wasn't normal, and Harry knew she wouldn't be able to hide it forever. Either her soulmark, or her nightmares, or her connection with Voldemort would come to light eventually. That's not even mentioning how her completely Gryffindor family would react to her being a slytherin, or a parslemouth for that matter.

She'd save that worry for another day though.

For now, the potter family gathered around the kitchen table for a buffet style dinner, made by their house elf Esky.

It was Wednesday when James and Lily pulled Harry aside after lunch, and Harry's mother said, with kind eyes, "We need to talk."

This was it. Harry was slytherin through and through, but she would not lie to her family. She had been given a second chance and she was going to do it right.

"Ask away."

The three settled themselves onto one of the many cozy couches that were littered around Potter Manor.

"You know we love you, but we have concerns about what happened during your interview. We're not here to attack you, we would just like to help you," her father said.

"That being said, we want you to explain the context for when you used dark magic."

Harry took a deep breathe. She had known this was coming but that did not make it any easier. She hated herself for what she had done, how could others possibly accept it?

"I know I gave you the impression that my world is peaceful. It's not. Voldemort came back with a vengeance, and soon everyone capable of casting stupefy and protego was on the battlefront. Me included." Lily gripped her daughter's shoulder. She had recognized the pain that haunted her daughter's eyes, but she had hoped that it wasn't as bad as she thought.

"Albus allowed for children on the front line?" though he tried to remain calm, anger laced James's question. He had missed seventeen years of protecting his daughter, and he was going to make up for it now.

"Dumbledore was dead."

Only then did James and Lily understand just how bad the war had been for the light. It was impossible for the couple to imagine Dumbledore dead. He was the center of the movement against Voldemort, without him the light would surely lose, they thought.

"Voldemort had infiltrated the ministry, so I used the imperious curse to break into both the ministry and Gringotts in order to steal artefacts to help the order defeat him."

"I used sectumsempra," Harry continued," on Bellatrix Lestrange, after just witnessing her kill Sirius."

Lily let out a sob for her daughter, while a tear streaked down James's cheek. She was a _child._ She shouldn't have had to do any of this.

"I cast the killing curse at Voldemort and Peter Pettigrew after watching them kill my soulmate."

James crushed their daughter to his chest, hoping that if he held her long enough, he could somehow erase all of the pain and suffering she had felt. It had been painful to recount, and harry buried her face into the crook between her father's shoulder and neck.

No one should have to go through that, James thought, especially not a seventeen year old. He pledged he wouldn't let anything bad happen to his daughter ever again, for as long as he should live.

James and Lily spent a half an hour just holding their middle child, and assuring her that they didn't blame her, didn't fault her at all, and even admitted they might have done the same in her situation. Harry had never had this before. She had been close to Severus, the Weasleys, Dumbledore, and Narcissa, but they had never been parents, more like uncles or aunts. This total love, having two people who just wanted her to be safe and happy, was an experience that Harry relished.

There were, of course, still holes in her parents' knowledge that they would want filled in, but they both recognized that now was not the time.


	5. Chapter 5

As a warning, there's some depiction of violence and death in this chapter, in case you don't want to read that.

The next Monday it was time for Harry to return to school. After much deliberating, her parents and Dumbledore had decided that the best course of action would be for her and her friends to pose as "exchange students" who were part of an innovative program. Ron and Ginny would still be siblings and claim a distant relation to the Weasley family in order to explain their unmistakable coloring. Likewise, Harry was pretending to be James and Lily's niece on Lily's side, as the Potter family's genealogy was too well known.

Neville had not wanted to claim any relation to the boy-who-lived, knowing it would only get him unwanted attention. He was posing as Remus Lupin's nephew instead. The guise was believable enough, and Lupin wasn't involved enough in the order for anyone to look twice.

Luna had no need for deception, as no one at Hogwarts had ever heard of her or her death. She would simply keep her name, and the Order had already made her record of death disappear.

Hermione needed to only change her name and pose as a muggle born. Sirius had suggested that she could pretend to be a half-blood, as she would probably have an easier time of it, but Hermione would not hear of it. She was proud to muggleborn, and "backing down would only be giving into prejudice".

Their explanations were airtight. With Hermione and Harry's help, the order had forged all of the appropriate documents, and even published fraudulent news articles to make seem as if the teens had existed in this world their whole lives.

Now Harry, Brian and Marius were gathered around the floo, their bags all packed and ready to go. They were only waiting for James, who couldn't seem to find his left shoe.

"Honestly James, isn't it supposed to be the children who make us late? If they miss breakfast, I'm making you explain it to Minny."

Fear now appropriately struck into his heart, James summoned his shoe, and made his way towards the floo.

Harry waited for Marius and Brian to enter the floo before turning to her parents. She thought it would be better to just get it over with, like ripping off a band aid.

"I need to tell you that there is a very strong possibility I'll be sorted into Slytherin. I'm not evil, or a death eater, I just tend to have a more indirect manner of achieving my goals, and I always do end up getting-"

Lily cut off her daughters rambling before Harry could embarrass herself too badly, "Minerva told us how close you were to Severus, so we had an idea that this might be coming." Lily gave a pointed look at her husband, as if they had rehearsed this and that was his cue.

"I still hold that most Slytherin's are slimy bastards," James took in a deep breath. This was very hard for the old Gryffindor, "however there are exceptions in every house. I still would prefer you to be in Gryffindor, where you could be safe and with your brothers, but if Slytherin is where you'll fit in best, then I just want you to be happy."

It was a huge weight had lifted off Harry's chest, and now she could breathe properly again. She had been most worried about her Father, who she knew had a strong rivalry with Snape. But the relief wasn't as sweet as she had expected. Her father had accepted her, but on the condition that she was an exception. What would her parents say when they found out their daughter was the model Slytherin in every way?

McGonagall met all of the 'transfer' students at the doors to the great hall. Breakfast had already started, and currently the entire student body sat behind those doors.

Harry could feel her shoulder get hot, telling her he was nearby.

Any moment now Dumbledore would make a speech to the great hall, telling the other students that Hogwarts was accepting students who had non-traditional education into some of the higher level class. Ostensibly, it was to 'level the playing field'. It was just the sort of progressive and equitable act everyone would expect from Dumbledore.

Because Harry was taking on the last name 'Dursley' she would be the first transfer student to get sorted. She had become close to her brothers in a short amount of time, and didn't realize just how heartbroken she would be if they shunned her until the possibility was starring her in the face.

Her father had accepted her, but he was an adult who had many years to mature out of old house rivalries. Her brothers were living those rivalries right now, and if Draco was anything like he was before they met then they probably hated him.

Even more terrifying, would be seeing him. The last time she saw him, he had been so pale, and his eyes which were normally filled with so much life had starred back at her, unseeing and glossy. That image had been the subject of her nightmares for months, and she didn't know what her reaction would be if she was forced to sit across from him and pretend she didn't know him.

She hadn't even decided if she would pursue a relationship with him yet. She had gotten him killed in her own world, and she would not allow him to be dragged into her problems in this world either.

McGonagall opened the doors to the great hall, signaling Harry through. She had been so nervous she hadn't noticed the sound of Dumbledore's voice through the doorway.

Drawing on her years of experience, Harry schooled her face into the most imperious face she could manage. She had plans, ones that involved getting close to the children of deatheaters and in her experience the best way to get someone rich and spoiled to like you, was to act even richer and more spoiled.

As she strode between the tables towards the sorting hat, Harry was pleased to see she had not lost her touch. She knew exactly what effect she had on people. Her chin and facial shape were undeniably from old pureblood lineage, yet no one in the room would be able to place them to a specific house due to her mother's genes. Harry looked beautiful and powerful all at the same time, and she had forgotten how empowering it felt to know that she commanded the attention of an entire room.

When Dumbledore had announced that they would be accepting transfer students who 'had not been afforded the same opportunities they had been' most of the Slytherin house had curled their lips in disdain. The only reason they hadn't gone into an uproar is because they assumed that any student the headmaster would handpick to come to Hogwarts would not end up in Slytherin. Most of them returned to their meals, prepared to tune out the sorting.

But Draco, Pansy and Blaise shared a knowing look.

After he had gathered his wits, Draco told his two best friends about his mark turning white again. At first the three had researched it, but after not being able to find any information about another such occurrence, the trio decided to let the matter drop rather than look a gift horse in the mouth.

Until this morning, when Draco woke up with his mark feeling strangely warm. The sensation had only intensified since and now Draco knew why. His soulmate had to be one of the transfer students and by their meaningful looks, Blaise and Pansy must have reached the same conclusion.

Draco waited with bated breath, almost afraid to get his hopes up. It seemed impossible that after years of accepting his lack of a soulmate, that they were about to walk through the doors of the Great Hall.

He wondered how he would know which one was his soulmate, or at least he did, until he saw her.

The girl who traveled down the aisle now must be his soulmate. She carried power as if it weighed nothing, her head held high, seemingly uncaring that hundreds of students were staring at her. She would be in Slytherin with him.

He had admired girls aesthetically before, and had seen women and veela more physically beautiful than the girl before him, but none had taken his breath away like she did. He had always thought others were overly clichéd when they described the feeling of absolute perfection they got when they met their soulmate, but he understood now.

It was as if he had a headache his entire life but had gotten used to the pain, and now all of the sudden he had been fed a pepper up potion. And then given a vial of liquid luck.

He almost missed the opportunity to offer her a space beside him after her sorting, he was so caught up in his own high. Luckily, he gathered his wits in time to push Pansy over and offer her a seat.

Only when she had sat gracefully down next to him did Draco realize he hadn't caught her name.

Although it was rather rude, he was grateful when Pansy reached over him to shake his soulmates hand. "Pansy Parkinson, it's nice to meet you."

"Harriet Dursley, although everyone calls me Harry. The pleasure is all mine."

Harry. It seemed such a plain name for a girl who was obviously anything but.

"Blaise Zabini. And my friend who won't stop staring like a buffoon is Draco Malfoy. He is normally quite civilized, I assure you."

Harry turned towards Draco, who was in fact still staring. "Hello. If I'm not mistaken, you are my soulmate."

It would be a mistake for Harry to pretend to not be Draco's soulmate. For one thing, it would be obvious when their marks turned black after they touched. For another, Harry was posing as a muggleborn in Slytherin house. Although her power and charisma would earn her respect, the Malfoy name would give her the pedigree.

It is wizarding custom that when two soulmates find each other that they both take on the blood status of whoever has the 'better' lineage. The idea is that since they were born to be perfect partners, then they must both have the same blood status. Really, it was just an excuse for purebloods to marry their soulmate without worrying about 'tainting' their blood line.

Her plans were to replicate her effect on the Slytherin house she had in her own world. She had offered Slytherins another camp to choose besides Voldemort's where they could feel safe. She discovered that many did not even believe the bigotry they spewed, but felt too alienated by the light and too scared of Voldemort to do anything else.

Harry had been a powerful leader, someone who Slytherins could see winning the war and protecting them. It hadn't been overly complicated to get the majority of Slytherin house to follow her.

It would be harder here. She did not have the opportunity to start from first year, and her mysterious circumstances would make it hard to earn her classmates' trust. Despite this, she was determined that she would be able to count all of her friends on the side of the light by the end of the year.

She knew what challenges she faced, and she knew that she couldn't appear too friendly without seeming weak, but there they all were. There was Blaise across from her, and Pansy and Draco next to her. There was Daphne and Vincent and Greg and Theodore. There was Fred across the hall, and Cedric and Colin. They were all here, and it took all of her will power not to burst into tears, or to hug them, or both. Too much depended on her composure.

She heard herself speaking with her long dead friends, casual and friendly, but that couldn't really be her, because right now Harry was emotionally overwrought. It was like she had split herself into two separate personas that were able to operate separately. That was the only explanation for the calm she maintained. She supposed people didn't earn the title 'Queen of Slytherin' by bending to their emotions.

"I suppose we are."

She and Draco stared at each other. She wasn't sure who should be more happy, the girl who regained her soulmate, or the boy who met his for the first time.

"So Harry- is it alright if I call you that?- if I don't mean to pry, but where were you before coming to Hogwarts?" Pansy interrupted them, jarring them both back into reality.

Of course Pansy meant to pry, Harry was all too aware of her friend's favorite tactic. Pansy could be extremely rude and nosy in her actual actions, but her phrasing and tone would leave people thinking she had been perfectly polite. It was one of the things Harry remembered most fondly of her friend.

Pansy wanted to know why she hadn't had the chance to attend school before now. It would be excellent gossip. If Harry wasn't Draco's soulmate, she was sure Pansy would have already told half of Slytherin whatever story pleased her.

But now she was remembering the last time she saw Pansy- she couldn't stop the images playing across her eyes any more than she could stop her heart from beating. She saw Pansy dueling at her side, Pansy baring her perfect teeth at her own aunt, Pansy screaming in shock and pain, Pansy hitting the ground-

But this Pansy need an answer now, and Harry couldn't ruin this second chance.

"I traveled a lot. My aunt would teach me the standard Hogwarts curriculum when she could, and for the rest I self-studied."

"That's so fascinating,"- it wasn't, it was vague and boring- Pansy said, laying her hand on Harry's shoulder as if they were old friends, "I love the idea of traveling. I have cousins in France, did you spend a lot of time there?"

"J'y ai vécu pendant un an." Harry said cheekily. It wasn't even a lie, she had been forced out of England for a year during the war.

"Enfin, quelqu'un qui je peux parler avec. Pouvez-vous croire Draco et Blaise refusent d'apprendre?" Pansy asked. By now Blaise and Draco were annoyed with being left out of the conversation. Especially when they heard their names mentioned, somehow understanding that they were being made fun of.

"Je ne suis pas surpris." Harry said, laughing at them. "I think we should stop torturing them now. It wouldn't do to make a bad impression on my soulmate already."

"I assure you, I don't think that is possible." Draco told her quite honestly. He was not used to flirting, but he found it fun, especially knowing that the object of his flirtations would reciprocate.

"I wouldn't be so sure, I have it on good authority that I can be quite cruel."

Draco didn't doubt it. Not with a smile like that.

By the end of the breakfast, Harry had been 'introduced' to all of the seventh year Slytherins, and was fast friends with all of them, with the exception of Theodore Nott, who had also been hard to win over in her own world.

If Harry could just keep her heritage a secret until it became common knowledge that she was Draco's soulmate, then she would be able to maintain a strong position within the Slytherin hierarchy.

At nine o'clock sharp, Harry and Draco had still yet to touch each other, and she found herself sitting at a table in the defense classroom next to Pansy (who had worked by herself for the beginning of the year) with Blaise and Draco seated in front of her. They were chatting amicably when her father entered the room.

Harry wondered from the way his jaw clenched if he had really meant it when he said he'd accept her being in Slytherin. Or was it simply the Slytherins she was seated with? Perhaps he had expected her to be an outcast, not to become quick friends with the popular crowd.

Whatever the reason, it was going to be an awkward class.

"Alright, we're going to begin where we left off last class with Vampires"

The lesson was well taught, James Potter certainly knew what he was talking about.

As the lesson progressed, Harry became increasingly alarmed by the amount of information she didn't know. She could breeze by the practical, but that wouldn't be enough to earn her a good grade in the class. As much as she didn't want to, she and all of her friends were going to need to do a lot of work.

This was where Harry's thoughts were as the class ended. Standing to follow Pansy out of the classroom, Harry was surprised to hear her father asking her to stay behind. She shot the other Slytherins a confused look, as if she had no idea why Professor Potter would want to talk with her.

Shutting the door behind her, Harry cast a subtle notice-me-not charm to ensure they wouldn't be interrupted.

"Draco Malfoy, huh? Is this some scheme to make up for all those years of teenage rebellion you missed out on? What are you doing hanging out with his lot, Rose?" James ran his hand through his hair. For all that his tone had been gentle and joking, he was incredibly frustrated. They'd never had this sort of problem with Brian or Marius; the only trouble those two got into was over pranks.

"I know about their parents, but I don't think they're like that. They fought for the light in my world, and I think there's still hope for them." Harry really hoped that her father wouldn't be too harsh over her friendships. She'd never had parents before, but she was quickly discovering that their approval meant a lot to her.

A silence hung over the room while James debated between his protective instincts and his fear of alienating his daughter.

"Just promise to be careful. It's amendable to see the best in people, but not at the cost of your own safety. These kids can get up to some bad stuff, Rose."

Harry smiled, liking that her father cared so much, but that he also respected her opinions. It was a struggle she'd fought with many order members at the beginning of the war.

"I will be."

Harry caught up with the other Slytherins in the common room, gathered around a game of wizard's chess. It looked like Draco was beating Millicent when she sat down in the empty space next to Pansy.

"What'd Professor Perfect want you stay behind for?" Theodore asked, trying to imply that Harry somehow had favor with Slytherin's least favorite professor. Which she did, but he had no way of knowing that.

"Just wanted to discuss my education. I need to get caught up in some areas, but I'm ahead in others so some of the professors are making personalized plans." Harry said casually. It was true, some of her professors were doing that, just not in DADA.

"How are you expecting to get caught up? I'd bet you only know as much as a fourth year." The black haired boy continued with a sneer.

Before Harry could hex the Nott heir, Draco chimed in. "Shut up Nott. It would do you well to respect your betters." The blonde turned to Harry for the first time before saying in a gentle voice, "If you would accompany me to my dorm room, I think we have much to discuss."


End file.
